


Not the sharpest shed in the tool

by straightmale420



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: M/M, its a happy fic, just guys being dudes, kinda slow burn, minimal angst, we all need happy promptio
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-17
Updated: 2017-01-30
Packaged: 2018-09-18 05:24:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9369893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/straightmale420/pseuds/straightmale420
Summary: “What’s so damn funny?” Gladio got off the bed, crossed his arms and eyed them both angrily, though it wasn’t hard to tell he was more confused than irritated. That was when the Prince decided to give in.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> i've never written a fanfic before in my life... its short and dumb... i just need a way to cope after the game drained me of all kinds of emotion  
> this is a spoiler free zone because i refuse to accept the tragic canon  
> might continue but take that with a grain of salt, idk if i ship promptio romantically or not (yet)

Prompto had never been one to think before he spoke. There was rarely much thinking done before acting either. Weather he was fearless or just plain stupid was up for interpretation, although when he was standing there, with a waterproof sharpie hovering over Gladiolus’ snoozing face, it might just be the latter.

  
He held his breath as he gently pressed the tip of the sharpie against Gladiolus’ unsuspecting forehead, slowly drawing out the letter ‘N’. Gladio twitched. Prompto swiftly took a step back, ready to make a dash for the door if he had to. After a couple of excruciatingly long seconds, soft snoring could be heard and Prompto let out a relieved sigh. He had gotten this far, there was no turning back now. A prank is a prank, and the spiky haired gunslinger never half-assed his pranks.

  
With cautious, light movements he went back to his work on the sleeping lion’s forehead. The instant he finished the last letter, the door to the hotel room opened. Prompto froze.  
“What are you doing,” a stern voice demanded to know. Prompto slowly turned to look at Ignis, who met his eyes with a strict stare that could only be described as a look a disappointed mother would give her child after catching them drawing on the wall with crayons.

  
“C-calligraphy…?” Prompto tried after a while, his voice dripping with guilt. Ignis closed his eyes and lightly shook his head in disapproval. He opened his mouth to say something but was rudely interrupted by Noctis. “What’s taking so long?” the Prince asked, stepping into the room. Prompto just stood there, unmoved, sharpie still in between his fingers. With his hands on his hips, Noctis slowly eyed Prompto to decode the situation.

 

“No way,” he muttered.

  
Prompto quickly popped the cap back onto the sharpie and buried it in his pocket. This wasn’t the first time he’d tried to pull a prank on Gladio. The three were well used to Prompto’s silliness by now, it was just one of the consequences of befriending him. With the way Gladio had playfully picked on him earlier that day, this much was to be expected. Still, it felt awkward being caught red handed.

  
He let out a small giggle in an attempt to ease up the seemingly building tension in the room. Noctis’ gaze shifted from Prompto and over to Gladiolus, with a small hint of anticipation in his eyes. He’d never admit it out loud, but Noctis always found amusement in his best friend’s shenanigans. Well, as long as said shenanigans were not directed at him.

  
“I’m not interested in watching this event unfold,” Ignis said and turned on his heels. “Find me in the marketplace when you’re done,” and with that, he gracefully disappeared out of the door.

  
As if someone flipped a switch, Gladio’s snoring came to a halt, his nap disrupted by the action in the room. The big man grunted as he rubbed his eyes and slowly sat up. “Did I miss something?” he asked groggily. Prompto bit his lower lip trying to hold back a smug giggle, failing miserably. Gladio squinted at him. “What,” he asked, the sleepiness rapidly disappearing. Waking up to Prompto’s coy laughter was never a good sign.

  
Even Noctis, who’s a stone cold master at keeping a straight face whenever Prompto thought he was being funny, couldn’t help but chuckle a bit.  
“What’s so damn funny?” Gladio got off the bed, crossed his arms and eyed them both angrily, though it wasn’t hard to tell he was more confused than irritated. That was when the Prince decided to give in. His laugh was small and almost inaudible at first, but soon he had his head tilted backwards in a full on giggle fit. Prompto was not slow to follow.

  
There was just something incredibly funny about seeing Gladiolus, the King’s Sworn Shield, staring at them with a grave expression, completely oblivious about the fact that he had the words ‘CUP NOODLES!’ crudely written on his forehead.

  
Gladio scoffed and shook his head. Having realized he probably wouldn’t get an answer out of any of them, he walked past the snickering idiots and entered the bathroom. Not even five seconds passed before his voice boomed from behind the door.

  
“PROMPTO!” at the mention of his name, the blonde boy couldn’t help but laugh even harder. Noctis, on the other hand, was already on his way out into the hallway. “You’re alone now, Prompto,” he grinned and closed the door behind him as he slipped out. Noctis had no interest to aid Prompto in the aftermath of his stupid decisions.

  
The second the door to the hotel room shut, the door to the bathroom opened. Prompto’s giggle died down slowly as the gravity of the situation dawned on him and his eyes met with Gladio’s.

  
_Shit._

  
“You’re dead, blondie,” Gladio pointed a threatening finger in Prompto’s direction as a scheming smirk started to spread in the corners of his mouth. “I’m too young to die!” Prompto yelled, throwing himself towards the door that was sure to provide him with a swift escape. Or so he thought. The second his fingers touched the handle and he was ready to sprint for his life, Gladio had already closed the distance between them and grabbed him by the back of his collar.

  
_Shit, shit, shit._

  
An inked, muscular arm soon had Prompto in a firm headlock. He squirmed and begged for Gladio to let him go, but he was too strong. “Any last words, Prompto?” the victor asked as he pressed his knuckles against Prompto’s defenseless head. “Not my hair! Anything but the hair!” Prompto yelled, making a last futile attempt at freeing himself from the iron grip. No use. It was absolutely no use whatsoever. He was done for. “Tell my wife I loved her,” Prompto whispered, dramatically placing the back of his hand on his forehead.

  
With a victorious chuckle, Gladio started rubbing his friend’s head. Prompto desperately tried to pull the giant fist away from his head, to no avail. “Gladio, please,” he yelped. “Your noogies HURT, man!” he helplessly stayed in his muscular arm prison for what felt like a lifetime, until Gladio finally decided to let him go. Sweet release.

  
“Now we’re even,” Gladio said triumphantly. The smaller man gently touched his own head and staggered a bit. “You play too rough,” he groaned, feeling almost dizzy. For a second, he considered going for a revenge noogie but quickly realized that was a useless idea. Gladio was twice his size and probably four times stronger, he would need a ladder and at least six arms. He pouted as he had to admit defeat.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The embers left from the campfire were still burning red, casting a dim light on Gladio’s face. It would have made a beautiful picture, Prompto thought, clutching his camera.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as stated before, i'm not a writer so things might feel a bit... rushed. still, i hope you enjoy reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it!!
> 
> ALSO: I never spent much time in Lestallum during the game and i realized way too late that it does indeed NOT HAVE WATER SURROUNDING THE OUTSKIRTS OF TOWN. IM AN IDIOT. PLEASE FORGIVE ME.

After several minutes of furious rubbing and countless empty threats directed at Prompto, Gladio was finally rid of the graffiti on his face. Making sure they had packed all their things and nothing was left behind, the two of them were ready to leave. “You first,” Gladio held the door open and motioned for his friend to pass. Prompto nodded, swung his bag over his shoulder and got exactly halfway through before Gladio stepped in and blocked his path, pressing the small man against the doorframe. “Gotcha,” Gladio laughed at the displeased noises coming from Prompto.

“I thought we were even,” he complained, wiggling his way past the blockade. “Now we are,” Gladio promised as he let the blonde boy through, and the two of them made their way out of the hotel with minimal bickering.

“Woaaah,” Prompto gasped softly as they approached the parking lot on the outside of town. The evening sun cast a warm glow over Lestallum, and from the viewpoint they would see the rays reflecting in the water beneath them. The blonde man pulled out his camera at the speed of sound, pressed himself against the railing and started snapping away.

“Don’t lean out too far,” Gladio grunted and placed a hand on Prompto’s shoulder. “I ain’t gonna dive after you if you fall.”

That was a lie. He would most definitely dive after him if he fell, though Gladio would rather not have to prove it. Better to keep Prompto firmly on the ground for now. The eager cameraman took a few steps back and looked up at him. “Don’t worry Gladio, I’m a professional,” Prompto assured and snapped one last picture of the sea.“Professional klutz,” Gladio added with a grin and patted Prompto on the back as he received an angry pout. “Hey, now, better safe than sorry, right?” his grin softened into a genuine smile, and the somewhat dull pat turned into a soft rub. “Couldn’t imagine how boring long trips in the car would be without you hanging over your seat all the time.”

Prompto’s heart jumped a little. “Thank you,” he let out a small, slightly nervous laugh. He averted his eyes, shifting focus from Gladio to the ground to examine some very interesting pebbles. There it was again. That wide smile he couldn’t control and that nice, giddy feeling spreading in his stomach. Every time Gladio looked at him like that, it felt like someone flipped a switch in him. He’d tried to convince himself it would pass, that he was just imagining things or confusing admiration with something else. He had tried, time and time again to prove himself wrong.

_I just look up to him._

_I’m just happy to receive praise._

_I’m just glad I’m not useless to him._

He knew he was lying to himself. No matter how much he tried to suppress his feelings, they always came back like weeds. Yet, he kept trying. He had to. “W-we should meet up with Iggy and Noct,” the words were more rushed than he’d aimed for, and he internally cursed himself for not being able to keep his cool.

He took a deep breath, exhaling slowly and quietly. “You’re looking kinda flustered there, buddy,” Gladio pointed out and gave him a hard nudge as they started to walk. Prompto was too preoccupied trying to come up with an excuse for being flushed to brace himself from the incoming elbow. It caught him by surprise, causing him to stumble. He quickly regained his balance though, hence keeping some of his dignity intact.

“Y’know… just glad to know you care about me is all,” Prompto winced on the inside and hoped to all kings and gods that Gladio didn’t suspect anything. “’Course I do,” Gladio huffed, almost offended. A rough hand reached out to ruffle Prompto’s hair reassuringly. “And you can bet your ass the others care about you just as much.”

Prompto’s mind was racing trying to come up with an appropriate response, but before he could, his attention was drawn to a voice coming from the other side of the parking lot. It was Noctis, waving and impatiently yelling at them to get a move on. Thankful for the distraction, Prompto waved back as he shifted his pace over to a jog.

“Is everything in order?” Ignis asked as soon as they were all seated in the Regalia, immediately receiving collective confirmation from the others. That was good enough for him, and he pulled out on the road and set off.

Roughly half an hour later, Ignis, Gladio and Prompto were working hard to set up camp at a haven, while Noctis had excitedly scampered off to the nearby fishing spot on Ignis’ request, to catch them something for dinner.

“Campfire: check,” Prompto stated out loud to himself and slumped back into his chair. He watched the small fire crackle as the flames slowly licked their way along the wood. Gladio and Ignis soon followed, and the three of them engaged in small talk and friendly banter while sometimes throwing a glance over to Noctis. Even from a distance, they could clearly see how much he enjoyed himself.

“Seems he’s got a bite,” Ignis said suddenly. “Let’s hope it’s something edible,” he added, and they all watched in quiet amusement as Noctis reeled the fish in. Pleased to see him haul a huge rainbow trout up from the water, Ignis stood up to get the portable kitchen ready.

One trout and four rounds of cards later, the last little bit of daylight had faded. Noctis and Ignis had retreated into the tent for the night, while Prompto was still in his chair, idly flipping through today’s camera roll.

“That one’s nice,” a sudden, deep voice above his left shoulder caused Prompto to nearly jump out of his freckled skin. “My god, are you trying to kill me?!” Prompto panted and clutched his chest, 99% sure that his heart had deflated.

He stared wide eyed at Gladio, who at some point had leaned over to look at his pictures. The embers left from the campfire were still burning red, casting a dim light on Gladio’s face. It would have made a beautiful picture, Prompto thought, clutching his camera. A low chuckle rose from Gladio’s throat. It was a heartfelt chuckle, not teasing, like the blonde had expected. “Got any good shots of me?” the big man asked, scooting closer on his chair.

“All shots of you are good,” the words were already out of his mouth before Prompto realized what he said.

_Fuck._

“Uh, I mean,” he started, not really knowing where he was going with his explaination. He was quietly thanking any kind of god that might be out there for the fact that it was pitch black outside. That way Gladio couldn’t see his face, which was now turning red at a rapid pace.

Things didn’t cool down when Gladio swung his arm around Prompto’s shoulders and gave him a playful shake. “You betcha,” he happily agreed.

Prompto fixed his eyes on the embers in front of them, once again finding himself at a loss for words. All he could do was sit there and wonder which was warmer; the fire, or his face. For a brief moment he also wondered if it would feel any different if he were to push his face as far down into the glowing coal as he could.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompto ruins everything.doc

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have no idea where im going with this honestly,, im starting to feel how much i am not a writer lmaoooo  
> this is,, a little too short than i'd like but. meh  
> i'll try to finish this somehow though, i dont like to leave stuff half finished

At the ungodly hour of half past three in the morning, Prompto found himself tiptoeing out of the tent to answer the call of nature. With one boot in each hand, he held his breath as he slowly stepped over Noctis. As he stood there, one foot on each side of Noctis’ waist, the Prince shifted with a small grunt. Prompto worried for a second that he had woken up, but Noctis was silent. He exhaled, relieved that he was still the only person awake. Quietly, he lifted his other foot over to safety.

He squinted as he focused on his next obstacle; Gladio. Getting into the same awkward pose that almost woke Noctis up, he tucked both his boots underneath his left arm. As he pushed one of the tent flaps open, he shot a glance down at Gladio, and his heart dropped.

He was awake.

“I-I’m sorry,” Prompto whispered, trying not to think about the fact that Gladio was looking directly up at his crotch. He quickly repositioned himself as best he could, and proceeded to practically dive out of the tent.

Through half lidded eyes Gladio watched the blonde man clumsily put on his boots and hurry off, letting out a deep sigh when he was out of sight. It was either divine intervention from a sick deity, or Prompto had a remarkable ability to be at the right place at the wrong time.

He shifted uncomfortably as his body reminded him of the dream he’d had, involving a certain gunslinger and very little to no clothing, until said gunslinger woke him up. Definitely sick divine intervention, he thought. Very, very sick.

_“Forgive me if this is too forward,” Ignis had said a few days ago as he pulled Gladio to the side._

_“I can’t help but notice your behaviour around Prompto lately,” Gladio scoffed at the words._

_“I don’t understand what you’re getting at Iggy,” he replied, scratching the back of his head._

_“I don’t treat him any different than I treat you and Noct.”_

_Ignis looked at him with a slight frown. “That is what I’m ‘getting at’ Gladio. You do.”_

In retrospect, after hearing Ignis explain a detailed analysis of how “rather physical” he’d been as of late, Gladio hadn’t been very smooth. He realized now that he kind of… lost his mind around Prompto. Not in a preposterous way, by any means, but he stopped thinking.

There was just something about him that Gladio couldn’t quite point his finger at, something that gave him the urge to run his fingers gently through the blonde hair. Gave him the urge reach out and pull him close, or tease him a little extra to make his face flush just slightly.

_He’s just a damn delight, that Prompto._

The tent flap rustled, causing Gladio to snap out of his thoughts. Prompto stepped back in, bringing a gust of cold night air with him.

“That was fast,” Gladio said softly as Prompto closed the entrance. “It’s kinda hard to take long bathroom breaks when there are daemons everywhere,” he replied and started making his way back to his sleeping bag, stepping over his friend yet again. “I could join you next time,” Gladio joked, and chuckled at the choked sound he got in response. “Please don’t,” Prompto whimpered rather than whispered as he tried to make the final step over the sleeping Prince.

“I’m perfectly capable of--“ Prompto stepped on something. His foot jerked back on reflex, but it wasn’t fast enough. He had stepped on Noctis’ arm and to his horror, Noctis was now awake. Prompto instinctively took a step back as he stammered an apology, which caused him to trip on Gladio.

Everything happened so fast. The prince cursed, Gladio grunted in pain as Prompto landed on him and Ignis got a rude awakening when Prompto’s elbow hit his shoulder. He awkwardly scrambled to his knees, feeling a hot wave of shame wash over him. “I-I’m so sorry,” Prompto said meekly, covering his face with his hands. He was such an idiot. He was such a stupid, clumsy idiot.

“Dumbass,” Noctis said crankily, but there was the slightest hint of laughter in his voice. The show Prompto put on when he fell was almost worth waking up for. He grabbed the blonde’s abandoned sleeping bag and lazily threw it at his friend, hitting him over the shoulders with a soft slap.

“I will accept your apology this time, but don’t make that kind of awakening a habit,”Ignis yawned and gently rubbed his own shoulder.

“It’s alright, Prompto,” Noctis mumbled and rolled over, taking the space where Prompto’s sleeping bag had been. “Let us all just shut up and get back to sleep.”

The Prince, to no one’s surprise, was the first one to go. Ignis succumbed to sleep shortly after. At last, Gladio started snoring lightly as well. Prompto, on the other hand, had more trouble. He watched Gladio’s peaceful face, watched his chest rise and fall. For a long while, he contemplated whether or not it would be worth it to scoot a little closer.

_No, he thought._

_No, no no. Absolutely, definetly not._

He turned his back to Gladio and forced himself to go back to sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Gross,” he muttered, inspecting his own wounds. His entire forearm felt like it was on fire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is kinda violent, though i tried really hard not to be too graphic.  
> im sorry if this fic seems like its written by 4 different people, im just making stuff up as i go and i have no idea what im doing
> 
> (also, if any of you spot any grammar errors or misspelled words, id appreciate it if u pointed it out!! english is not my first language, and small mistakes tend to slip right by me)

This was not what he had planned when the four of them left camp this morning. He, Prompto Argentum, personally chosen by the Prince as part of his crownsguard, had not planned to start the day off in the mud, intoxicated by several Voretooth bites.

Panting and shaking, he lifted his arms up in front of his face to brace himself from the feisty animal towering over him. He cried out as the dreadful thing bit down full force on his forearm, sending wave after stinging wave of pain through his body as it tore at him. He tried shoving, he tried kicking, but it only seemed to make the creature more furious.

_This is it._

_This is how I die._

_I’ve failed._

As his mind was racing and his arms gave in, heavy footsteps approached. In the blink of an eye, the Voretooth was flung off of him and hurled through the air by the force of an iron duke. Gladio’s greatsword. Prompto mouthed a breathless “Thank you” and tried to get back on his feet. He staggered, fell, got up and staggered again. His vision felt hazy and he struggled to keep himself upright, clutching his right arm which was bleeding profusely.

He tried to concentrate on his surroundings and managed to stay focused long enough to see Ignis and Noctis collectively take out the last Voretooth. He was dizzy, the toxin in his body sent occasional shockwaves through his nervous system, mixing with the pain from having his arm almost ripped apart, leaving him hunched over and hitching for air in short, raspy breaths.

Prompto swayed, ready to collapse now that he knew they were no longer in danger. He gave in to exhaustion, but instead of cold, hard dirt like he expected, he was met by something warm.

“Hey. Stay on your feet, Prompto.” Gladio asserted, tightening his grip around the blonde. Prompto felt something being pushed into his hand and clutched it out of habit. He barely managed to break the antidote bottle, giving Gladio a weak smirk when he finally did it.

“Takes a lickin’” he laughed weakly.

Gladio sighed and pushed a second bottle into Prompto’s hands, this time helping him to break it by gently wrapping his rugged hand around Prompto’s. The antidote and the healing potion quickly spread, and soon Prompto could stand without Gladio’s support.

“That’s a nasty bite,” Noctis said as he came closer, inspecting his friend’s arm. Prompto touched it lightly and winced. Nasty indeed. Even with a potion, the gashes were so deep they would take days to heal properly. Right now he could barely move his fingers.

The trip back to Lestallum was more quiet than usual. Mostly because Prompto, surprisingly, dozed off. This worried the others slightly, seeing as he very rarely slept in the middle of the day. Still, they let him nap in peace. He probably needed it badly.

Safely back in the Lestallum parking lot, Ignis and Noctis went ahead to collect their bounty for slaying the pack of voretooth, and Gladio gently nudged Prompto awake. With a long line of disapproving grunts, he rubbed his eyes and got out of the car.

The bandages around his arm were completely soaked by now, gaining some gasps and stares from people on the street while Prompto and Gladio made their way to the Leville. While Gladio talked to the receptionist, Prompto idly picked at the red-stained fabric, trying his best to reassure an almost frantic Talcott that he was okay. The kid was obviously not convinced, but he had a strong sense of discipline, so when Prompto told him not to worry, he closed his mouth and nodded.

“I want to take a proper look at your arm,” Gladio said suddenly, jingling the room keys in his hand as they reached the top of the stairs. “Make sure it’s nothing that a simple potion can’t fix,” he continued, fiddling with the lock for a couple of moments before holding the door open for his hurt companion.

Gladio was a survivalist. If anyone knew how to treat a bad bite, it would be him. Prompto nodded and made an agreeing sound in the back of his throat, starting to unravel the bandages slowly as he made his way into the room.

“Gross,” he muttered, inspecting his own wounds. His entire forearm felt like it was on fire. It didn’t get better when Gladio held his arm firmly over the sink in the bathroom, pouring disinfectant into the gashes. Prompto hissed at the stinging pain that flared up and swallowed hard, fighting the tears that started welling up in his eyes.

Satisfied with the cleaning, Gladio put the bottle back into his bag and wrapped the damaged arm back up.

“Clench your fist.”

With trembling fingers, Prompto slowly balled his hand into a fist. He grimaced as he clenched it weakly, the pain making his eyes water again. By the time Gladio was done and could confirm that Prompto’s arm was not torn to shreds beyond repair, he kind of just wanted to chop the whole thing off.

With a loud sigh, Prompto rolled onto the closest bed and glared at the ceiling. Man, did he feel useless. If it wasn’t for Gladio, he would have been in a voretooth’s stomach right now.

His heart sank in his chest as it hit him. He would be dead. Gladio saved his life today.

“Gladio…?” he started, looking over at the other man, who was seated in a chair next to the night stand. “I-I’m here because of you.”

The bodyguard gave him a puzzled look before it clicked. “Hey now, that’s-“

“I would be dead right now,” Prompto interrupted, propping himself up on his elbow.

Gladio frowned and leaned forward in his chair. “Don’t say that,” he grunted.

“But it’s true,” Prompto was sitting upright now, with his legs dangling over the edge of the bed. The look on his face was twisted, Gladio couldn’t tell if the blonde man was going to laugh or cry.

“I can’t even stand up to a couple of Voretooth, how am I supposed to-“

this time, it was Prompto’s turn to be cut off. Gladio stood up from his chair, brows furrowed and eyes dark. He leaned over the smaller man and shoved a finger into his chest, causing Prompto to let out a disgruntled noise and tilt back with the force.

“You stop this bullshit right now,” Gladio’s voice was stern. “That attitude will weight down you and everyone around you,” there was something in Gladio’s eyes while he spoke, and Prompto could swear it looked like they were burning.

“Listen to me. You are weak and useless only if you let yourself be. You can try to let this-“

Gladio reached down, battle worn fingers wrapping around a slim bandaged wrist. “-this stop you, but I won’t. I’m not going to stand here and let you slow yourself down, Prompto.”

For a long moment, Prompto was paralyzed. All he could do was stare, with his mouth slightly open. He watched the amber fire in Gladio’s eyes as his words sank in. He tried to mutter a reply, but nothing coherent came out of his mouth. Instead, he took a deep breath and gave the other a determined nod.

“Keeps on ticking,” Gladio smirked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if it seems i pulled this fic out of my ass, its because i totally did
> 
> i was going to add another chapter but i just dont know where to go with this, it was initially supposed to be a oneshot fhhdfjhf
> 
> this whole thing was kinda just a drabble honestly?? i learned some do's and dont's though and id be lying if i said i didnt want to write another, more fleshed out fic in the future


End file.
